O' is for 'Offspring'
by Boys Should Kiss Boys More
Summary: Written for a contest on deviantART. DIP/PAMIEN. Floves


'O' is for 'Offspring'

**Explaination**  
"Well of course." Pip's mouth fell into a wide 'o' as Damien laughed boldly. The blonde's hair flared as well as his temper. "Pip, calm down, let me explain!" The Brit glared at Satan expectedly.

"Get. On. With. It." Damien still snickered behind his hand, but was silenced by a stir, matching glare from his father and his lover. "Now!!"

"Well, though Damien is immortal, he's still human, and obviously can produce sperm." Pip laughed angrily at Damien's blush. "But the immortality has an adverse effect on his bodyily fluids." The blonde was shaking, from anticipation. "His sperm can match to whatever other component is needed to reproduce. in this case, his sperm became the female egg." Pip shook his head, clutching the bridge of his nose defiantly.

"But why am I the one baring the child then!?" Satan frowned, carefully resisting to pat his son's boyfriend's shoulder in reassurance.

"His dominance overpowered _your_ fluids, and thusly, forcing you to bear the smeet." Pip sighed heavily, before collapsing into his previous seat. Damien leaned over, massaging circles onto Pip's hand carefully. "Honestly, it won't be that bad! Damien wasn't too much of a pain." Pip giggled airily, anger melting away, and sharing a smile with his lover.

"I.. I guess it'll be fun."

**Three Months**  
"Damien, can you make more pancakes?" Pip asked, batting his eyelashes, and gently stroking his lover's arm. A plate slid from the blonde's lap, gaining air from the most minor of baby bumps. Damien heaved a sigh, but patted his Brit's head, and trudged back to the kitchen, just leaving yet another plate with his lover.

**Six Months**  
"It's getting bigger." Damien mumbled as he carressed Pip's bump through the sheets. The Brit didn't stur, not having heard his boyfriend in such a deep sleep. Damien smiled, leaning closer to kiss his blonde's ear, before spooning the lad, and resting his head on the bare shoulder. A small push alerted Damien. His eyelids falling to half-shut, he smiled, rubbing back. Before drifting to sleep.

**Nine Months**  
Pip moaned in pain, and clenched his fists in Damien's shirt. The anti-christ teleported them to the specifically chosen hospital, before forcing his lover to release his shirt. "Pip.. Pip! You have to go with the nurses." Resting his lover in a wheelchair, Damien allowed the white uniformed nurses to take his sweet away, but a smile still graced his lips. Pip's arms still flex, as if that was helping.

**After Rest**  
Pip smiled as Damien rested his chin on the bedside table near his hospital bed. The nurse walked in, hastily slowing down to quiet her steps. Despite her attempts as silence, Damien awoke. Though not from her danty feet, but rather the unfamiliar scent of something his own.

The beautiful baby boy was gently placed into Pip's arms -as mother- wrapped in one black blanket, and one red. The blonde smiled, as the infant reached up to toy with a misplaced lock of hair. Damien leaned over, cherishing the baby's tuft of dark, blackish gold hair, and hazel eyes, the irises tinted with red. Since both parents were fairly pale, the child was no different.

But he was perfect.

"What should we name him?" Damien asked, placing a kiss first on his son's forehead, then on his lover's cheek. Pip scratched his chin, handing the child to his father. "I'd say we'd name him after our dads.. but Satan seems too dramatic." Pip laughed." And we dont kow yours." Pip this time shrugged gently.

"Patrick." Pip murmured, testing the name on his unsteady lips. Damien hadn't heard, watching his son squeal, and reach for his cross. Smiling, Damien removed the cross, carefully shortening it, and letting the baby hold it. "Damien?"

"Yes, amore?" The baby squealed louder still, in sheer delight. Pip found it infectious, his own smile growing.

"Let's name him Patrick." Damien smiled, and nodded, again kissing his lvoer, though this time on the lips. As if in cheers of approval, the baby-- err, Patrick, gurgled, and waved his short arms happily.

_~owari~_


End file.
